


I Used to Know You

by orphan_account



Series: Of Monsters and Martin [11]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Character Death (mentioned), Consensual Somnophilia (minor), M/M, Not!Tim, Oral Sex, Trans Martin Blackwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tim Stoker is dead. That doesn't stop Martin from going on a date with him, though.(The Stranger)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Not Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Series: Of Monsters and Martin [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776565
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	I Used to Know You

**Author's Note:**

> Words used for Martin’s anatomy: cunt, cock

Martin knew Tim was dead. He was under no delusion that Tim survived, he couldn’t think of a way Tim could possibly be alive. Basira had told him about the explosion, how they’d escaped by the skin of their teeth and Jon himself was barely clinging to life. And yet, when he saw Tim waiting for him outside the Institute, he didn’t even question it.

“Long day?” Tim asked, his voice as soft and lovely as ever. Martin practically melted.

“Yeah, a bit,” Martin replied.

“You want to go grab dinner? Unwind a bit?”

Martin looked longingly at him. He reached out his hand, and Tim took it, squeezing it gently.

“Sounds lovely,” Martin replied.

Tim had taken him to a nice restaurant, with red tablecloths and intricately painted plates and multiple sets of silverware at each place setting. Martin always felt a bit awkward in fancy restaurants, and it all seemed a bit forward. He liked Tim, sure, but they’d hardly interacted outside of work before this. Maybe they should have. Maybe Martin would have liked to have gotten to know him a bit better before he died. This might be nice, then. It would be nice to talk with Tim about something that didn’t involve statements for once.

Tim bought a bottle of wine for him and Martin to share, and he even offered to pick up the tab at the end of the night. Martin wondered vaguely how Tim was paying for all of this, given that the pay at the Institute wasn’t luxurious to begin with and he was also no longer employed there as the Institute tended to not employ the dead. Though, when Martin considered it, he could see it happening.

“Are you still working at the Institute?” he asked Tim as they walked vaguely in the direction of Martin’s flat. They hadn’t discussed where they were spending the night, or if they were spending the night together at all, they’d just started walking.

“No,” Tim replied. “I quit. Far too dangerous for my taste. I should have quit long ago, really, but the circus was what convinced me.”

“Basira told me you were dead. Jon’s in a coma, and he should really be dead. How did you survive?”

Tim laughed.

“I’m not sure myself. I suppose I confused them by finding my own way home instead of leaving with them. I just didn’t want to go back to the Institute, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Martin replied.

Tim took his hand. Martin blushed.

“My building is just around here,” Martin said, gesturing ahead. “Did you… want to come inside?”

“Sure,” Tim replied.

They were on the couch kissing almost as soon as they entered Martin’s flat. Martin sat back on the couch, Tim straddling his thigh and pushing him backwards with aggressive kisses. Martin opened his mouth and let Tim drag his tongue over his teeth. He let out a small moan. Tim grinded against Martin’s thigh, and Martin could feel his growing erection pressing against him. He pressed a hand between his own legs, rubbing himself through his jeans. Tim placed his hand over Martin’s, pushing harder against him.

“Do you want me?” Tim whispered, dragging his lips off of Martin for just a moment, leaving a trail of spit on Martin’s chin.

“Yes,” Martin replied.

Tim stroked a finger over Martin’s lips.

“Can I fuck your mouth first?” he asked. “You’ve got such pretty lips, I wanna feel them around my cock.”

Martin nodded eagerly.

Tim slid off his leg, undid his trousers, and pulled out his cock. He looked down at Martin, stroking himself absentmindedly.

“On your knees,” he said, gentle but firm. Martin dropped to his knees quickly, pressing his lips to the head of Tim’s cock.

“Don’t wear yourself out,” Tim said, patting Martin’s hair. “I still want to fuck you afterwards. I hear you’ve got a nice, pretty cunt.”

Martin hummed happily. He licked at Tim’s cock, tasting the precome that dripped from it. Tim moaned.

“Go on,” he said softly. “I know I said don’t tire yourself out, but don’t hold back either.”

Martin nodded, closing his mouth around Tim’s cock. He slid his lips down to the base, suppressing his gag reflex as the tip brushed the back of his throat, then pulled back off. He dragged his mouth back and forth, leaving spit dripping off of Tim’s cock. Martin took hold of Tim’s hips and pulled him closer, and Tim moaned. He grabbed onto Martin’s hair and pushed him down suddenly onto his cock. Martin choked.

“Too much?” Tim said, pulling his cock back out and gently stroking Martin’s hair.

Martin shook his head, pulling on Tim’s hips and taking his cock back in. He liked it. He liked having his throat fucked, and Tim’s cock felt absolutely lovely.

Tim pushed Martin’s head down again, and Martin relaxed, letting Tim push his cock deep into his mouth. He licked at it sloppily, moaning around it and drooling on himself.

Tim came down his throat, and Martin happily swallowed it, licking the remnants off his lips once Tim had pulled out of his mouth. Tim smiled at him, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his face and kneeling down to kiss his forehead. Martin palmed at himself through his jeans.

“Think you deserve a treat now, hm?” Tim said. Martin was already beginning to unbutton his jeans.

“Yes, please,” Martin said. He pulled his trousers down to his knees, then laid down on his back to pull them the rest of the way off.

“Right here on the floor?” Tim asked.

“Mhm,” Martin said.

“Dirty. I like it.” Tim leaned over him, pushing a hand up Martin’s boxers and stroking over his thigh. Martin spread his legs, hoping Tim would start touching him.

“How about I take these off and have a look?” Tim said, pulling on the waistband of Martin’s underwear.

“Yes,” Martin whined. He pulled his underwear down quickly, he no longer had the patience for teasing.

Tim looked down at him. He pressed at Martin’s inner thigh, and Martin spread his legs wide, showing himself off. Tim dragged a finger over Martin’s cunt, gently flicking his cock.

“God, you’re pretty,” Tim whispered. “You want me to fuck your pretty cunt, baby?”

“Yes, please,” Martin whimpered.

Tim pressed his cock to Martin’s entrance. He was already hard again. Martin arched his back, breathing heavily in anticipation. Tim pushed his cock into him, hard and fast and wonderfully deep, and Martin moaned. He grabbed Martin’s hips and pulled them forward, pushing himself deeper. He thrust in and out and Martin rocked his hips in time, whining and moaning with every movement. It wasn’t long before he came, whimpering as he squeezed around Tim’s cock. Tim pulled out of him, spilling all over his thighs. He leaned down to lick it off, and Martin gasped.

He didn’t ask Tim to go home after that. How could he, after all, after being treated to a nice dinner and a lovely fucking? When he retreated to bed, Tim followed him, curling up next to him and nuzzling his face against his chest.

Martin awoke in the middle of the night to Tim stroking his cheek. Martin startled awake, flicking the light on and turning to look at Tim. There was a crack down his face, like broken plastic. Martin didn’t comment on it.

“Wh-what’s going on?” he asked.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth,” Tim replied. He moved his fingers down to Martin’s lips, stroking over them softly. “What do you think, sweetheart? Another round?”

“Tim, I’m tired.”

“You don’t even have to get up. Just lay there, I’ll do all the work.”

“Fine,” Martin replied. He opened his mouth and Tim pushed his thumb between his lips. Martin softly sucked on it. He watched Tim climb on top of him, straddling his face, his cock brushing over Martin’s lips. There was another plasticky crack down its length. Martin tongued over it. It didn’t feel weird, but it was still unsettling.

He laid still and let Tim fuck his mouth. It was absolutely lovely. He fell asleep again before Tim finished, but he didn’t mind all that much.

When Martin awoke again, he was not in his bed. He was sitting in Jon’s office. Standing in front of his desk was a large, pale man with a long white beard. Martin recognized him as Peter Lukas, but only just barely.

“Where am I?” Martin asked. He could taste Tim’s release on his lips.

“You’re safe,” Peter Lukas replied. He swiped a finger over Martin’s chin. “That thing already got to you, hm?”

“That thing? You mean Tim?”

“The Stranger,” Peter replied. “You let it in, didn’t you?”

Martin nodded. However Peter meant that, he was pretty sure the answer was yes.

“Shame,” Peter replied. “Ah, well. Maybe stop running around with strange men for a while, alright? I don’t know what else might try to get to you, but it would do you good not to let it.”


End file.
